I am so off this planet.
I have had so much therapy in the past, I dunno, forty years, that it makes me "sick".
I have learned to speak in cognitive-speak. I have learned to think in cognitive-speak.
I have survived jw-endorsed "therapy": A jw-sanctioned therapist in Northern Virginia who could "cure" dissociative disorders in just a few sessions. She learned this technique from the "society" and therefore, did not charge for her services. I of course had to go in after hours (after 'paying clients' appointments were over for the day) and was required by her to have my own 'support system' in place ie elders, etc. because since she was not being paid, she could not be available for emergency therapist-support due to this treatment offered through the freaks at bethel. My "support system" was baffled, non-existent, and thought I was a flake. I was embarrassed to have even asked them to "help" me under the terms defined by the freak jw-sanctioned therapist.
It almost cost me my life. I fired my REAL therapist after finding her (a jw!!!! god sent her to us troubled souls!!!) and did what I was told. After the first session, which was incomprehensible to me, I hounded her for the real source of her treatment modality: it turned out to be a "cab driver", also a jw, who had somehow come across this "divinely inspired" course of treatment, which was supposed to cure me in a few hours, at most. I SWEAR THIS IS A TRUE STORY. She misdiagnosed me so badly, it can not be over-whatevered. After an unsuccessful suicide attempt (using the meds prescribed for my misdiagnosed "psychowhatever"- (the THIRD time I'd been "misdiagnosed" as bi-polar) my original, actually-qualified original therapist actually accepted me back into his practice.
Almost eight years later, I have learned how to Not be Co-dependent. I have learned how to speak clearly, directly, and to the issue. Many people have paid me to participate in their research. I am a "survivor." I have spoken as an "example" of someone who has successfully "whatevered" at conventions for therapists studying PTSD, (against my better judgment) because I thought I was helping people, whatever.... I have been involved in international studies which have been attempting to document "hard science" evidence into the changes that occur in the brain, (hippocampus) and have been told that I have "made a difference, support their research, and whatever.
My ability to speak clearly, directly, not co-dependently, and whatever has resulted in my virtually NEVER being heard as a real human. I have needs for connections, feedback, love, encouragement, and whatever. I see all around me people engaging in "pre-whatever" stages of "recovery" (like such a concept exists....) receiving major responses in threads encouraging them to hold on, they are loved, they are understood, they make a difference, etc.... yet, my direct, cognitive-based, healed-survivor (lol) supposedly "example of someone who's made across the mountain" comments go either un-noticed, or misunderstood, or simply are not interesting enough to respond to.
I have observed people objecting to threads because they are triggering go on to post material which is nothing other than graphic text-book examples of triggers, only to see them be enveloped in warm encouragement. When I try and post a thing which is in its context is really a true desperate call for encouragement, no one responds, or it goes into some freak thing which requires much effort on my part to ameliorate damage I've caused by my remarks. I do not understand people.
A couple of months ago, a person visited me from another state. I experienced a connection, a safe, wonderful connection that restored my faith in my ability to even HAVE such connections. I felt like the loss of my younger brother (second sibling lost to suicide) had somehow been relieved, because this person restored my faith that people could actually be soul-connections.... only to have my significant other object because this person had -for a mere few seconds- over-stepped his whatever by grabbing me by the waist and holding me affectionately. (that gesture meant the world to me. At no point did I feel it was inappropriate nor disrespectful.) This person would have possibly could have possibly could have possibly would have ......) I do not understand men.
I have simply lost hope in the human race.
I don't want to live on this planet. I am supposedly a poster child for recovery, yet I am the most alone person I know. If I died right now, three people would actually care for more than perhaps twenty minutes, two of them being my sons. I am currently experiencing the weirdest apathy. I am damned if I do, and damned if I don't. I am tired. I don't care. I am so beyond tired
I am not enough of an internet junkie to have multitudinous sites to post to. I am entirely clear that Simon's site is not the appropriate place to post such a thing, but I don't care. For the few (if any) people who give one tenth of a fuck, they can read this, and perhaps feel like they had a goodbye. My two siblings died without notes; I know how much I wished to have even a few words from them....
I am so fucking out of here. I wish to say to one poster here.... who might recognize the topic heading: MY GOD... go and get LAID already.... I thought you would be a friend, but all you wanted was to get laid.... you never heard a single word I ever said...
I'm supposed to have a major life-event occur on Friday. I will not be there. He'll survive. I posted an announcement about it which illicted one response (thank you minimus). I am tired. I am gone